escapingbabylon.com

A recent article on RelevantMagazine.com reminds me of something that happened in Guatemala.

One night, I served as translator between H*, Kellen and Chris. Hector was born and grew up in Guatemala and spoke only a bare minimum of english. He told us about how his mother had migrated (he never specified whether legally or illegally)to Boston, and how he hadn’t seen her for 10-12 years. That Christmas, he was planning to drive two weeks to get to the Mexican border, then spend a couple hundred dollars to take a three day walk to reach the United States. H* did not know how he would get to Boston after that. I’m not sure he knows his mother’s address.

Every now and then I still think of him. I wonder where he is. In a lot of ways I hope he is still in Guatemala. Building a life in the United States when he doesn’t speak it’s unofficial language is going to be very difficult. He’s going to face a lot of discrimination. Part of me thinks that it’s better that he stay in Guatemala. That he can make a better life in a third world country than the life of an illegal alien here.

But you know, being a firmly middle class Jamaican with options who still ended up in the United States anyway, and growing up with two parents who loved each other and loved me and continue to be my strongest emotional support means that I don’t know where he’s coming from. I just pray that he’s safe.

*Name obviously changed just in case.

Well 5 at the moment, but it will grow (and hopefully shrink).

http://www.43things.com/person/RichieDaley

Ok, this happened a couple of weeks ago, but it bugs me and I want to tell someone.

I was waiting for the bus in downtown Minneapolis as I normally do, right next to Borders. For those of you who’ve seen me, you know that I am definitely not an intimidating looking guy. In fact, I’m more than a bit of a nerd and sort of look that way. I can’t ever remember intimidating someone in my life. So this old guy, possibly late fifties or early sixties, comes walking up the street with his wife. You could tell that they were pretty well off by their clothes, their haircuts, and the suntans they both wore.  His wife is having a great time pointing out posters in the windows to borders. He’s walking on the outside like a true gentleman. I have a bad habit of people watching while at the bus stop, and as I look over at them, I think I make eye contact with the guy just briefly, and I get a look. The look is fleeting, and I almost think it’s part of my imagination.

As they continue to make their way closer, the man does something change. This well-off gentleman makes an ettiquette faux pas by switching sides with the woman, putting her on the outside, taking her away from the posters she was pointing out, and putting himself between me and her. He was subtle about it, but as I said, I have a bad habit of people watching at the bus stop (plus I’m usually pretty good at reading body language). He was protecting her, apparently from me.

The way my brain works is interesting but sort of annoys me. It seems my subconscious is smarter than my conscious. There’s this data transfer issue that I’ve had on my plate for a while at work, no progress on it at all for the last couple of days. Now yesterday my conscious mind is occupied with figuring out what’s going on with InterVarsity, and suddenly this morning there is a brainstorm and I think I’ve figured out how to do it. Now if I could turn on that kind of brilliance without the drama factor, then I would be eternally grateful.

So I’m going to have a change in status as InterVarsity staff. Whether this is good news or bad news I’ve yet to determine. Pray for me.

I’m honestly not sure if I’m happy or not right now. Birthday weekend went well. Got some furniture (which I’ve been wanting for a while). However there’s also some InterVarsity drama that’s got me a little confused, and my general mode of idealistic oblivion is probably not going to cut it right now, even though that seems to be the route that I’m being encouraged to take. I may be being cryptic, but I’m not completely sure of what the situation is  myself.

When you mention to your officemates that your 25th birthday is coming. Everybody’s shocked and respond with statements like “wow, I don’t remember what it was like to be 25″

Sigh, I still feel old though, and I have only one plan for Friday.